


God Killer

by InFamousHero



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Catharsis, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9166042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InFamousHero/pseuds/InFamousHero
Summary: The Eternal Throne looms before the Outlander, once a Jedi, now a Sith Knight and Commander of the Alliance. But ever since that doomed mission on the Emperor's Fortress she has only ever felt like prey, caged and beaten in her own mind because of Vitiate.One way or another, that ends today.





	

“You wouldn’t _dare_ ,” Valkorion seethed at her, eyes brightening. His presence flared with anger that still burned her far too easily, filling the turbo lift with a palpable sense of unease. K’Surda kept her arms crossed, staring straight ahead even as time froze around her. Her scar ached and she kept her face stiff and neutral.

“I would,” she muttered.

Valkorion paced slowly, glaring at her. “And what of the galaxy?” he asked. All it took  was a minute gesture to flood her mind with images of destruction, the wanton chaos on Zakuul, Coruscant and Dromund Kaas as the Eternal Fleet bombarded them. People ran for their lives but many were caught in the blasts and many more were buried under debris. They weren’t the only ones, just the most immediate—but the death toll climbed by the minute.

He stopped right in front of her, eyes narrowed. “No, you won’t.”

Gone, he left in the blink of an eye—time resumed.

Lana’s hand pressed to her shoulder and K’Surda exhaled,  trying to keep her mind focused. _“Keep an eye on me.”_

 _“Always.”_ Lana dropped her hand as the doors opened and they strode into the throne room, empty for the moment.

Dread pricked through her like a spiny eel and K’Surda swallowed hard, trying to push the vicious crackle and hum, the smell of burning armour and flesh, _out_ of her mind. Darth Marr’s smouldering body flashed through her thoughts and she blinked hard, momentarily screwing her eyes shut.

How many times would she have to watch him do that…?

“Guess this is it,” said Theron, glancing around warily. He kept his blaster at the ready and turned to face the turbo lift. “You sure about this?” He sent her a cautious look.

K’Surda exhaled deeply and marched towards the throne. “The fleet needs to be stopped. Just don’t let me hurt anyone when he tries something.”

His voice sharpened with suspicion. “Sorry, _when_ he tries something?”

K’Surda refused to look back, walking up the stairs. “This is what it’s all lead to. I won’t let my fear of him stop me from saving those people. I’ve done enough damage because of him.”

A ripple of exasperation, anger, protectiveness—Lana’s voice was calmer than she really was. “Putting yourself at risk won’t fix any of that.”

She stopped at the throne itself, staring it down as if it would attack her itself. It was a trap. She knew it was a trap and he’d put an effective bait on the switch. Sighing, K’Surda turned to face Lana and Theron, frowning deeply. “I know that,” she said, tired. “But I’m done doing things because I’m scared of him.”

Lana held her gaze for a long time, hard but not guarded. Their bond was a live wire, buzzing with mutual love and worry. But Lana nodded and turned to keep watch on the lift with Theron. Hopefully, Arcann and the rest of their forces would keep any would-be interference out.

If not for Vaylin, Senya may have joined them. But someone familiar needed to watch over her in case she woke up.

They could still do this.

Breathing deeply, K’Surda tried to exhale her reservations and settled on the throne. A mechanical hum immediately danced on the air, filling the space around her with the smell of ozone. It snapped around her and K’Surda flinched, assaulted by a storm of electricity. She clenched her hands on the armrests and held back from breaking them, grinding her teeth as she endured the pain.

Lana’s voice cut through it all. _“K’Surda!”_

She bowed her head, trying to keep herself from screaming even if she sounded strange. _“It isn’t him!”_

A few more agonising moments passed and the storm finally rent itself, expanding in a brief shockwave that only staggered Theron and Lana. The throne’s command panels came to life, evidently clearing her as the new ‘Empress.’ The title stuck in her throat like wax. She wasn’t even comfortable with ‘Commander.’

Quickly, she sent out an order across the entire fleet to cease fire and return immediately to Zakuul’s star system. Shut down all weapons and stand-by once their destination was reached.

There, those systems were saved. Now for—

Time froze again, her stomach dropped. K’Surda clenched her hands and rose from the throne, glaring at Valkorion as he stepped into vision with an all too familiar look in his eyes. “Do you think this surprises me?” she spat.

Valkorion smiled darkly at her, slowly pacing and looking her over as if he were appreciating a piece of art he made himself. “No, I don’t expect it would. You _are_ a paranoid creature.”

“It isn’t paranoia if you’re right.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

He began to approach her and K’Surda scowled, crossing her arms with shoulders squared. “You won’t break me again.”

Valkorion snorted, all amusement leaving his face. A sudden, sweeping gesture and twisted energy passed over her, pulling at the hooks he’d placed in her months ago on Odessen. “On that, you will find yourself quite mistaken.” He growled the last word, leaving her hanging for a moment. She clutched her stomach and tried to stay upright, glaring at him.

Her bond with Lana was silent, as frozen as time was around them. She tried to push through the isolation, grasping for the strength that just the thought of Lana could inspire in her.

He chuckled mockingly and sighed, “kneel.”

Indignant rage swept through her like a rush of acid. “You can’t make me!” she snarled.

Valkorion looked at her like a misbehaving child. “I said, _kneel_.” His hand burned to life with menacing energy that warped around her form, forcing her to her knees, bowing her head. K’Surda swallowed her humiliation, bubbling in her throat as bile. She tried to curse him out, to rebel at least with her voice, but he expected it. All that came out was, “as you command, my Emperor.”

The fear gripped her as tightly as it had on Ziost, choking all sense from her mind and scattering her in a dozen directions.

Time unfroze and her terror roared outwards, nearly buckling Lana. She turned and called out, running towards them.

Valkorion scoffed and lifted his hand, raising K’Surda into the air as if she hung by her throat. Malevolent power coiled around her frame, swaddling her in his insidious energy. She grasped for Lana’s voice and found enough strength to spit out, “you won’t break me again!”

He smiled, cold, indifferent, and swept his other hand towards Lana, throwing her back into Theron. “Enough, child. This form is mine.”

A storm of energy surrounded him and for the briefest moment, K’Surda couldn’t help but think of home before everything turned to darkness.

 

* * *

 

Shadow, night—falling into the abyss. Starless, lightless, there was light, enough to see—if she saw the light was it real?

Lana jolted awake and rolled, pushing herself up from the ashes, the ground beneath her was hard. Looking up at the sky revealed nothing more than an abyss alight with dying stars and ruined ships,   aflame in the void, frozen. The land was broken around her, decrepit buildings and shattered stone, the air was still as if afraid to disturb the ashes.

She looked down at herself, whole and dressed in her usual dark attire. Two lightsabre hilts lay at her feet and she bent to pick them up, returning them to her hips.

“What is this place?” she asked aloud, frowning. Her voice all but echoed around herself and she looked about, clenching her hands.

_“Lana...”_

She turned around in a futile attempt at finding the speaker. Their voice was nowhere and everywhere at once, but extremely familiar, near instinctively so. _“I left this shard of myself locked away in case he tried to destroy me again.”_

Something bitter arose in her throat and Lana sneered, “Valkorion.” She looked out over an ashen path that stretched and wound before her, cradled by jagged rises and their shadows. “K’Surda…?”

The voice remained firm in its response. _“Yes. I’m still holding on but there isn’t much time before he realizes that. Please, you have to hurry—help me.”_

She moved quickly, traversing the broken landscape with a hand on her sabres. No sooner did she press further inland was she assaulted by spectres, ghosts of K’Surda’s old life and the present, twisted by Valkorion’s presence into guilt-inducing wraiths. Lana cut through each of them, immune to their accusations of failure and betrayal. She knew most of their faces, Satele, Kira, Orgus, Scourge, even echoes of a doomed Vaylin made their home here in this nightmarish mindscape.

Nevertheless, Lana cut down the last of them standing in her way and passed through a narrow channel in the rocks. The ground beneath her feet quickly became worn and dusty bricks, assembling into the skeleton of some long forgotten temple. It shared visuals of Jedi and Sith designs; haphazardly mixed as if the building itself was baffled.

K’Surda spoke again, _“he’s keeping me chained with memories, I can’t break them.”_

Lana scowled and watched as an archway light up on her left. There were seven in total, three to the left, three to the right, and a final seventh directly ahead. All of them were swallowed in shadow, except for one. _“You have to break the nightmare first. It’s hard to think while that’s in—”_

She looked up at the silence, feeling a malevolent shift in the air. Taking no chances, Lana hurried through the archway before it could dim and close. Somehow she knew Valkorion was aware of her now.

The ground was mud beneath her and she shivered as a cold deluge of rain quickly soaked her to the bone. Shadowy spires rose up around her, coiling and bending in unnatural patterns that reminded her of the nightmare lands on Voss. They curved around obelisks and pillars reminiscent of those on Nathema.

Flashes lit up in the shrouding thickness of the storm and Lana hurried at the sound of lightsabres clashing. She soon came up a three way battle between K’Surda, a controlled Vaylin and a considerably more menacing Arcann than they had in reality. They all bore the marks of their fight, tears in armour, lightning burns, bruising, still they fought.

Arcann soared through the rain, crashing into the mud and scoring a line through it right by Lana. A new gash burned across his chest, fast cooling in the rain. He remained prone for the moment and Lana ran towards K’Surda, igniting her own sabres. She found K’Surda just as Vaylin cackled and opened a new cut on her leg. Lana threw her hand out and tossed a surprised Vaylin aside.

K’Surda looked across in shock, staring at Lana as if she were a ghost. She knew already what Valkorion had done here. “No, I’m not dead,” she said firmly, taking up a defensive stance by K’Surda.

“I still failed,” K’Surda muttered, hanging her head. She licked some bloody rainwater from her lips and grimaced. “Look at them.”

Through the rain, Lana could see Arcann and Vaylin marching back to them, sabres out, malevolence ebbing and flowing around their battered forms.

K’Surda held her sabres at the ready, resigned. “I couldn’t even save _myself_ , how could I save them?”

Instinct bade Lana to put her sabres away and focus her attention entirely on K’Surda. Vaylin and Arcann were still far enough away for her to talk. “Tell me what you mean by that.”

Broken yellow eyes fixated on her and K’Surda sighed, lowering her sabres. “I couldn’t keep him out, he killed… he _tried_ to kill you, Senya is dead, the Alliance is gone, and they’re trapped just like me. They’re broken again.”

“You already saved them and yourself. By no definition does ‘broken’ mean ‘irreparable,’ and if it does to you I recommend you stop listening to whatever incessant _wisdom_ Satele is muttering to you in here.”

“If I’d been a better Jedi none of this would be happening.”

“If you had been a better Jedi, you would be dead with the rest. You’ve done more for the galaxy in the last six months than most other Jedi can ever claim. You are _not_ broken, you became something else. _They_ will become something else as well, thanks to you. This is nothing more than a nightmare to convince you otherwise.”

K’Surda stared at her, struggling to take the words in and believe them as true. Lana held her hands out, asking gently, “do you trust me?”

Immediately, K’Surda nodded and extinguished her sabres, grabbing Lana’s hands. “Of course I do.”

The moment the words left her mouth the world around them fell into darkness and dissolved around them. K’Surda’s arms went tight around her and Lana held her close, eyes shut until the bricks were under her boots again. She opened her eyes and found K’Surda gone. Another archway was lit up.

_“You cannot stop the inevitable, little parasite.”_

Lana ignored Valkorion’s voice and hurried through the next archway.

The Endless Swamp stretched out around her, as did the battle fought just outside the Gravestone before they lifted it free. Lana walked slowly, observing each frozen figure mid swing, just about to die, charging their opponent, using the force—until she spotted herself.

Her mirror‘s weapons were on the ground, a look of split-second fear frozen on her face. A wedge of metal plating separated her from K’Surda and Lana frowned, walking around until she could see K’Surda standing at the apex. K’Surda looked terrified, conflicted, and right next to her stood Valkorion’s ghost, whispering into her ear, smirking to himself because he knew he had her in an impossible situation.

“I couldn’t lose you,” K’Surda said, stepping into existence next to her. Lana looked at her, frowning, “we’ve been over this.”

K’Surda frowned lightly, looking at the ground. She walked towards herself and circled, paying more attention to Valkorion’s fixed image. Lana followed, standing before them with her arms crossed. K’Surda stopped and looked at her, asking, “have we?”

“Was there more to it?”

“I don’t think I would have survived it without you.”

“This battle or having him in your mind again?”

“Both, more so the second one.”

Lana frowned deeply, stepping closer with a brusque, “he could have killed you and taken over your body!”

Little changed in K’Surda’s expression and she shook her head. “No, you gave me the strength to withstand it. I understand that now. Maybe I can do it again but…”

A deep chuckle echoed overhead. _“But what, child?”_

K’Surda flinched and hunched her shoulders, looking at the mud. Bristling, Lana approached her and held her by the jaw, making K’Surda look directly at her. “You can, you survived what no one else could without scattering completely. That scares him, _you_ scare him. He wouldn’t go to this much trouble to contain you if you didn’t.”

Something hard entered K’Surda’s eyes and she bowed her head into Lana’s grasp. The swamp dissolved around them just as the storm had and Lana returned to the temple alone. She went through the next archway before Valkorion could try to spout his nonsense.

 _Ziost_ , the station overlooking a world half-way destroyed, a wave of death and _hunger_ splitting its surface between frigid life and ashen death.

K’Surda was curled on the floor, knees drawn up, arms around her head, still dressed in the old sith armour. She was screaming, face frozen in pain.

Scourge was on his knees beside her, hand to his stomach, his gaze fixed on Ziost. His face was hard to discern, but something in his eyes almost resembled horror.

“I tried to stop this before,” said K’Surda, appearing beside her. Lana frowned lightly and looked away from the planet, a tangle growing in her throat. She couldn’t tell if it was guilt or shame, but it was certainly sadness. Ziost was a harsh blow to Imperial morale and that was putting it lightly. People mourned openly and every force-sensitive on Dromund Kaas felt Ziost’s death. It buckled her on the way out, far enough away that she didn’t fall unconscious but it still left her weak and reeling.

Shaking the thought from her mind, Lana turned her attention to K’Surda. “It was a terrible day for all involved.”

“Except for him.”

“We learned what he was truly capable of; more than any of us could have feared.”

“I should have seen it coming.  He tried to do this before, cause death of a massive scale and set off a reaction to wipe the life from a planet. Before he was trying to do it to the whole galaxy. Maybe it’s what he meant to do here, but it didn’t work like he meant it to.”

“What would that have meant for Zakuul?”

K’Surda shook her head, sighing, “I don’t know.” She turned away from the planet to face Lana, frowning in confusion. “Maybe he was bored and wanted to end it all, start over, but it didn’t work. So he had to find some other way of amusing himself and that’s why Zakuul invaded.”

“So there is a limit to his power. We saw that on Nathema as well.”

“He was afraid of her.”

“Vaylin?”

“Yes, I could feel it, like a flickering heartbeat. But he was scared.”

K’Surda smiled stiffly, “a god has no limit and fears nothing. What does that make him?”

The station and Ziost’s dying image faded with the yell of an angered Valkorion. Lighting hit the spot next to Lana in the temple and she lunged into the fourth archway before another could strike.

Dromund Kaas, the dark temple’s deepest chamber. Rage swept over her like a hot wind and Lana breathed deep, taking in the details of her surroundings. Shadows clung to the walls and a thin, shrouded figure reached out with curved fingers, lightning frozen on the air. It met the red blades of K’Surda, her face twisted in a manic look of desperate determination as she pushed back. Tendrils of horrid power coiled around her frame, ill-gotten and warping. Her eyes were red.

Lana circled around, swallowing her discomfort at seeing K’Surda like that. “You would have done anything to see him defeated.”

K’Surda stepped in next to her mirror, observing herself with no small degree of regret. “Yes,” she murmured, glancing across as Vitiate. “I thought this would be the end and that everything I’d gone through would be worth it if I could just end him here.”

“You delayed his plans. We may have been taken further by surprise if you hadn’t.”

“Maybe, but looking back I did learn something from this fight. He _can_ be brought down to a mortal level and defeated. I didn’t kill him like I thought, but it was a step closer.”

Lana nodded, wondering how many steps it would take to finally defeat him forever. “You showed everyone that it was possible to push back.”

Nodding back, K’Surda turned towards Vitiate’s figure and approached it. “He’s bored old man treating the galaxy like his personal toy box. No one should fear that.”

Another howl, another dissolved memory. Lana thudded into the temple floor with a grunt, as she was dropped in. _“You will not break free!”_ Valkorion bellowed overhead.

Lana ignored him and entered the fifth archway. He could do little to stop her now.

She entered a small chamber this time, Voss  design, filled with ominous green light. A hole took up one   side of the chamber, open like a mouth, its teeth a sharp collection of twisting roots that cradled a vortex of pure malevolence. K’Surda stood with her arm outstretched, palm open as she pushed a Voss mystic into the maw. He clung to the bricks with a look of fear and shock, tendrils of darkness wrapping tight around his shoulders.

A Voss woman, a soldier by the way she dressed, looked horrified and angry, half-way through pulling her gun free. Scourge stood beside K’Surda, smirking, his sabre already out to intercept the Voss woman.

A light frown furrowed her brow. “This is what troubled you.”

K’Surda stepped into sight in front of her mirror, brow knitted tightly with regret and remorse. She didn’t say a word and only circled herself once before wandering off to look at everyone else. The line of her mouth remained thin and she held her hands behind her back, clenched.

Lana watched her move around and sighed. “You’ve done terrible things and you don’t know how to make it right. _If_ you can make it right.”

K’Surda said nothing, stopping at the mystic clinging for life at the edge of the pit. Lana frowned lightly, approaching her. “Terrible times may call for terrible measures. You may well tell me you were afraid and thinking only of yourself, but the fact of the matter is you may have never walked away from Dromund Kaas had you _not_ taken this power. Where would we be then? Revan could have toppled us, the Republic and the Empire would be in absolute shambles, Ziost would have been even more of a mess than it was, and Zakuul! Without you we would have never made it this far.”

“You sound so convinced.”

“I am, I’ve witnessed you press on through impossible odds dozens of times now. Yes, you caused damage, but tearing yourself apart every step of the way is _not_ the answer!”

K’Surda turned on her heel to meet Lana’s stare. “The Voss aren’t the only people I’ve hurt.”

Lana clenched her hands. “If you deserve this much self-punishment, what are Arcann and Vaylin to suffer?”

That seemed to cut through whatever protestation K’Surda had ready. Her brows lifted and she opened her mouth for several seconds before closing it again. Lana finished her point in a hard voice, “don’t do to yourself what you refuse to do to them. You may never forget what you’ve done but you don’t help anyone by wallowing in it.”

They stood silent and still for a long moment, K’Surda seeming to digest her words, but a sad, understanding smile turned K’Surda’s lips. The chamber dissolved around them and Lana grunted as she was dropped again, her ears assaulted by Valkorion’s enraged howling. Lightning glanced across her shoulder and sent a spike of pain down her arm. She clenched her teeth and charged into the last archway.

A station, similar to the Vaiken spacedock but devoid of any liveliness, as if all the lights and activity were ripped out. A wide central walkway led of a throne in the middle of a huge, circular chamber. There was  a collection of Jedi before her, facing off against Vitiate, K’Surda at the  front, and in the process of being overwhelmed.

Lana clenched her jaw and walked to the front where K’Surda was. She was dressed as a jedi made for acrobatic fighting, her eyes stone grey and her face devoid of scars. The lightning burned into her chest, warping the skin into something painful and twisted. It went right through her into the others, forcing them to drop their weapons even as K’Surda held onto hers, trying to push back but failing.

It _almost_ looked like she was winning, maybe she only held back some of it, a fraction just large enough to keep the others alive. Certainly, _she_ shouldn’t have survived.

K’Surda stepped into sight right next to Lana. “He had other plans,” she murmured. Lana turned her head, automatically putting her hand on K’Surda’s arm. “Never again,” she growled, “ _never.”_ She squeezed K’Surda’s arm gently, pulling her away from fixation.

Blinking, K’Surda nodded and looked away from herself. “Vaylin knows the feeling too, she knows what it’s like to drown. You were just keeping your head above the water on Ziost,” she murmured, only barely looking at Lana. “If you drowned as well, I don’t… no one should know that feeling.”

Lana moved in front of her, just about managing to catch her eye. “You broke out of his control yourself, you’ve done it before, you can do it now, and you can make sure _no one_ ever has to drown again. You’re stronger than you’ve ever been and he knows this.”

The station shook around them with a near unnatural bellow of rage. Light filtered in from the seams between panels on the walls and Lana grabbed K’Surda by her other arm. “You’re stronger than him, all he’s ever done is murder and manipulate for his own amusement, turning people into playthings. All your life you’ve tried to save people, no matter your mistakes. Isn’t it time you saved yourself?”

Valkorion roared against the walls of the station. _“How dare you defy me!”_

K’Surda closed her eyes and pulled Lana to her chest, hugging her tightly. Lana wrapped her arms tight around K’Surda’s waist. She could feel herself growing light, both of them were, all but evaporating with the last memory. It wasn’t painful and the chains finally broke on K’Surda’s mind, Lana afforded herself one last smile.

 

* * *

 

 

The ground met her without kindness. K’Surda grunted and slumped awkwardly, barely catching herself on her hands and knees. She huffed into the ashen ground and pushed herself to her feet.

“Oh, but you are _persistent._ ”

Nothing happened as Valkorion spoke. K’Surda frowned deeply, waiting for the dread, the familiar overwhelming wash of fear to settle in the pit of her stomach like a river of sleet. But it never came—there was only anger. She gripped it tight and slowly stood up, meeting Valkorion’s caustic gaze with a spine of durasteel.

“I free myself of you,” she hissed. Her weapons were in her hands before either of them could blink. “This is _my_ mind and you will _never_ control it again.”

Valkorion’s smile was a cold twist somewhere between amusement and condescending pride. Malevolence ebbed and flowed from his form in subtle waves but K’Surda only narrowed her eyes, staring him down. She marvelled at how _calm_ she felt in spite of her anger. Her pain was still there, the memories still stung, but her fear of him, the sheer terror he invoked deep within her—it was gone.

A low, deep chuckle rumbled out of him. “You truly are the strongest of my creations.”

She lifted her chin at him, scowling. “I was raised in the desert by Surda and Adora, I was trained by Orgus Din, and I was rescued from you and myself by Lana Beniko. _They’re_ the ones who made me what I am and they’re the reasons I survived what you did to me.”

“You would still be chained to your old ways had I not opened your mind, limited as a Jedi.”

“I was already on that path. All you did was force the matter.”

“Some matters require a push. You were stubborn.”

“Like Vaylin was stubborn?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and his smile straightened. K’Surda smiled coldly, taunting him, “you can’t control _anyone_ any more. I forbid it.”

It cut straight through him. Rage overwhelmed his presence, his faced twisted in a roar. K’Surda jumped away just as lighting surged the platform she’d be kept on, landing roughly at the bottom of the stairs leading to it. Valkorion snarled and slowly walked down them, staring at her with lightning dancing across his frame. “ _You_ forbid _me?_ You’ve forgotten what I am, child. Allow me to remind you.”

K’Surda bared her teeth, sabres at the ready. “You’re a bored old man pretending to be a god.”

He surged towards her with an inhuman scream, the air rippling around him. Lighting crashed into her blades and she lashed it back at him, searing a line across his robes. She leapt for distance, slashing at him when she could and throwing her own lightning. He chased her across the broken hills and ruins, their blows sending minor shockwaves and topping pillars. Plumes of ash and dust rose in the air and tattered banners were set alight by stray lightning.

Each time she struck him she cut away part of Valkorion, putting so much of her own power into her strikes that she began to strip him of his masks. Valkorion slowly eroded until he was Vitiate, still chasing, still running and leaping across the landscape, breaking it in their struggle over each other. But even that mask began to fall apart, sliced away until another revealed itself, and another, and another, countless masks that she carved from him with blow after blow after blow. Her rage reduced his defences and layers to slag and dust, breaking him piece by piece while she remained whole.

Her blades slammed into his chest and he crashed through a wall, rolling onto the island they originally began their fight on. She smouldered with power, raw, crackling, shimmering the air around her body with a red haze. But it was clear, no sign of shadow, his presence no longer warping it to his design.

He was out of masks. Tenebrae stumbled up the stairs, staggering onto the platform. His robes swung in tatters, smoking as she snarled at the void around them. K’Surda stalked after him, as strong and energized as when they started, and he turned to face her with wild eyes. “You cannot kill a god!” he bellowed, hands clenched. He crackled with lingering power and threat—she would tolerate it no longer.

K’Surda narrowed her eyes and lifted her hands, a confluence of energy threatening around her palms and fingers. IT throbbed red and purple, mixing between the two, and flared bright as she spoke in a cold and immovable tone, “ _kneel_ before the dragon of Zakuul!”

The _fear_ on his face was satisfying enough but it paled before seeing him forced to kneel. Tenebrae fell to his knees, visibly struggling against his own body but unable to disobey. “No! I will not—! I am a god!” he screamed in vain, straining to stand up. “How? How dare you!” He glared up at her and lightning crackled across his frame. K’Surda watched every minute shift, every grunt and growl of protest, every twitch of his eyes, every single last detail of his struggle, his utter _vulnerability._ Her greatest nightmare was on his knees before her and all she could think was how _small_ and _pathetic_ he looked.

Clenching her hands, K’Surda strode towards him until was standing on the platform, looming over him as he continued to fight in vain to stand. “This is _my_  mind,” she growled. “You have no power here.”

Tenebrae spat on the ground between them, snarling, “you cannot shackle a god! You cannot kill me!”

K’Surda lifted her arms, palms to the void above, and began to draw in as much power as she possibly could. A maelstrom quickly formed around her, throwing up the ashes and blowing it away. Chips of stone tore at Tenebrae’s body, cutting through his tattered robes and slicing his form. He grunted and scraped at the ground, still unable to rise.

She stared down at him as if she were looking at vermin, her eyes beginning to glow with power. “How does it feel to be stripped bare, _Tenebrae?”_

He bristled at the name, glaring up at her. Power fluctuated violently around his body and he began to rise. K’Surda growled down at him, _“kneel!”_ His body slumped back to the ground and he roared, face twisting with desperation, fury and _fear_. “A god fears nothing and no one,” K’Surda said calmly, watching his expression twitch. “How does it feel to fear _me?_ ”

The ‘world’ shifted around them, the ashes sifting away, the barren and broken rocks aroding, the misshapen statues and shadows of her nightmares falling out of focus. They were still there, K’Surda had no doubt they always would be, but it was moving away from her, slowly becoming distant. This ravaged and painful part of her was finally dulling.

The maelstrom swelled, wreathing her in lightning and shadow, a confluence of such destructive energy that would have disintegrated a less powerful individual. K’Surda clenched her teeth and hissed through them, “how does it feel to be _erased_ from the galaxy?”

Tenebrae opened his mouth, face contorted with rage, and K’Surda unleashed the storm. It struck him like a star going critical, ripping through him and tearing him to irreparable shreds. His scream almost deafened her as his spirit was scattered, never to be rebuilt, and a final well of power erupted from what was left. It blazed into the abyss and shattered as his spirit did, dissipating like embers on the wind.

It took a long time for K’Surda to blink, longer still to move and look away from the void. Part of her expected some kind of remnant to emerge and try to overwhelm her again, but there was nothing left of him. She couldn’t feel him _anywhere_.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It was time to go back to the waking world.

 

* * *

 

 

Again, the floor met her without care, but this time was she pulled up by careful hands. K’Surda blinked her vision clear to see Lana’s worried face and smiled warmly, relieved beyond measure. She spied a field of destroyed sky troopers over her and Theron’s shoulders and they looked a little weathered by the fight that must have happened.

_“Are you…?”_

_“I’m okay, he’s not.”_ K’Surda’s smile widened and she propped her brow against Lana’s, closing her eyes.

“Can I get an all clear here?” asked Theron,  giving them a mildly exasperated look.

K’Surda grinned lightly and nodded, “I’m fine, Valkorion not as much.”

Theron holstered his blaster, glancing at Lana. “Well, the fleet has been stopped and the throne is ours. What now?”

Frowning, K’Surda looked at the throne in question. She stepped over to the control panel and opened a channel to every working network on Zakuul and to relay the message outwards as far as it could go. It would get to the Republic and Imperial worlds later, but it would get there.

She stood in front of the throne and began to speak, the words coming naturally. “People of Zakuul, you know who I am. The Outlander, the Alliance Commander, whether you see me as a friend or foe isn’t important, all you need to understand is that I stopped the fleet from obliterating everything. You’re free of tyrants and I don’t intend to be your next empress or any sort of ruler. The fleet is to be retooled for peaceful purposes, ferrying supplies and people where they’re needed most. The Alliance is here to ensure no war of this scale ever threatens the galaxy again. We all have wounds to lick, many worse than others, and I encourage you all the rebuild and flourish. But if a war like this ever raises its ugly head again, we won’t stay out of it. I didn’t spend my life fighting for peace to see it all wasted, see that it isn’t.”

She closed the channel and exhaled deeply. “That should do it, right?” she smiled awkwardly, seeing the mildly surprised look she was getting from Theron. He scoffed and shrugged, “I mean, yeah, I guess. Good job. Makes a difference from having to prod you with a stick to make a speech.”

K’Surda smiled sourly and wiped her face. “Right,” she sighed. “Can you uh… get that whole peaceful retooling thing started?”

He nodded, taking out his datapad to start making notes. “Yeah, I didn’t need to sleep. But you probably should, Arcann sent the all clear about a minute before you came to.” He waved them away and K’Surda didn’t argue as Lana led her back to the lift. She breathed a deep sigh of relief as the doors closed and they began to descend, puzzled but content with her own calm.

Feeling eyes on her, K’Surda turned her head to find Lana watching her. It reminded her of the first time she woke up on Zakuul when Lana rescued her from that carbonite tomb. “What?”

Lana was silent for a few seconds, hands behind her back, before asking, “he’s finally gone, isn’t he?”

K’Surda nodded, “yeah, I made sure of it.”

Again, Lana stared at her for a moment. “You seem different.”

Mild worry creased her brow and K’Surda faced her. “Different bad or…?”

A light smile turned Lana’s lips. “Good, _definitely_ good.”

K’Surda smiled broadly, her cheer washing over Lana just as easily as it spread through her. She reached out and pulled a very willing Lana into a tight hug, burying her face in Lana’s hair. They refused to let go of each other the whole way down, relishing a moment of true quiet and calm in such a long, long while.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was long overdue but I finally did it. Glad K'Surda finally got this moment of vengeance for everything Vitiate ever put her through.
> 
> Side Note: I'm currently in the process of writing K'Surda into an original setting involving lots of magic and Knights who hunt demons. Interested? Follow @KailWrites on twitter or wtfistheplot.tumblr.com, the latter is more likely to have rambling about that sort of thing because I sometimes forget twitter exists.


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